How I Met Your Mother
by Choice Creations
Summary: A series about how Stef and Lena first meet which takes place right after episode 5 of The Fosters (Stef/Lena backseat). I had already written 11 chapters of this series before I watched episode 9 that revealed flashbacks of their first meeting. I changed a few details in my story to match the show's but I maintained a lot of my own ideas about their "love at first sight" story.
1. Who is That?

Tumbling into the back seat, Stef pulls Lena to her. Clammy palms together, fingers intertwine, nerves scintillate, a heart catches in a throat, a breath stops. Stef kisses the place behind Lena's ear that reminds Lena how much she misses Stef's touch.

"I couldn't take my eyes off you all night," Stef says in Lena's ear. "You're so beautiful."

Stef releases Lena's hair from the elastic band that holds it up. "As beautiful as the day I first saw you." Stef kisses Lena again.

"That's not true," Stef corrects. "Even more."

_**- Flashback - **_

The lights in the cafeteria always seem brighter on "Meet the Teachers" night at Public School. Parents and teachers mill around exchanging strained smiles, extending hands to shake, and nodding with acknowledgement as parents introduce themselves. Whether or not the teacher hears the parents' names or is able to discern who's child this mother, father, or couple belongs to is irrelevant, the teacher nods anyway.

After a terse and tense teacher conference with Brandon's Kindergarten teacher and Mike, Stef just wants to go home. Mike already left for the evening having had enough of airing out his and Stef's differing education philosophies in front of Brandon's teacher, unwillingly having her witness the fallout and one of many symptoms of his and Stef's separation.

"I'm leaving," are the last words Stef hears Mike say as he walks heavy-footed down the hall towards the parking lot.

They were words she had said to Mike just a few months earlier but for different reasons. Reasons that make her doubt her decision every time she explains to Brandon why she and Daddy no longer live together and reasons that challenge her integrity every time Stef's father asks her if she is sure. She and Mike had agreed to separate for a few months to figure things out. She wonders if or when it will be okay between her and Mike. She just wants it be okay when they talk to each other, when they talk about Brandon, and when they talk about what happens now.

Stef can't go home just yet. She needs to decompress from the earlier meeting. Staying at the school, she walks into the cafeteria under the glare of its florescent lights to meet Public School's faculty and auxiliary staff.

An eager hand is thrust into Stef's palm before she knows who it belongs to. It's the music teacher talking excitedly about "Brandon's potential", about his "natural talent" and if she and "your husband have considered getting him piano lessons." Barely able to make the emotional transition from the disappointing show of her and Mike's best attempt at parenting together apart to receiving Mr. Music's enthusiasm (she can't remember his name), she mirrors his smiles and nods and agrees with everything Mr. Music says. Stef is doing everything she can to keep tears from falling. Her nerves are raw.

Mr. Music moves on and Brandon's best friend's dad, Paul, approaches her. He's a prosecutor. He's genuinely happy to see Stef, it has been awhile. He asks her about work, an area of her life she feels confident about and takes a lot of pride in. She regains her footing again as she tells him about her precinct leading the sting that finally put an end to the meth lab on the other side of town.

"Lena," a voice calls out over the din of conversation. It's Principal Chapman beaconing someone from across the room. Stef looks away from Paul – who is in mid-congratulatory sentence – as if her own name has been called. It's not the name that catches her attention. It's the way it sounds, like a bird call that would raise a rare specimen out of a thicket. And a rare specimen it is.

A slight woman appears – slim, lean – from what appears to be out of nowhere. Stef hadn't noticed her this evening or over the past few weeks that she has been bringing Brandon to school. The woman's gait is effortless – back straight – reserved elegance radiates from her. She holds a gentle smile on her face and a brightness suffuses her eyes. She smiles with her lips – not a toothy smile – which are full and lightly glossed, not gaudy. Her hair is breathtaking; totally different from Stef's blonde, straight hair. This woman's hair is full, curly, dark, really curly. It rests like a billowing cloud on her shoulders; a soft, airy halo, highlights of light brown and red. She shakes the hands of the parents that Principal Chapman introduces her to. They engage in conversation.

Stef is aware that Paul is still talking to her; in fact, his wife has joined him now. She nods in their direction and politely smiles although she doesn't quite know what Paul is talking about. Stef glances past Paul and his wife.

The woman who Stef watches has the poise of a consummate professional, like she is used to doing this, shaking hands and greeting people all day. Yet there's an eagerness in her face and she has the courtesies of someone being introduced to others for the first time; making their first and best impression.

Stef hears Paul and his wife suggest a playdate for their boys in the near future, "maybe on Saturday". Stef agrees. When she looks past Paul and his wife again, the woman is gone. Stef discreetly scans the cafeteria looking for her all the while still trying to look engaged with her present company. _Is she a new parent? A new teacher? Administrator? The lunch lady?_ Stef thinks.

"Paul, Katherine, Stephanie," Principal Chapman approaches them. "I'd like to introduce you to Lena Adams, she's our newest addition to Public School now that Ms. Harper has extended her sabbatical. Ms. Adams has a Masters in Education, she'll be teaching 4th grade, and she also began the principalship track this year. We're happy she's here."

Handshakes are exchanged, smiles and expressions of 'ahh' are shared, "It's a pleasure", and hospitable 'welcomes' are said. Stef notices how warm the color of the new teacher's hand feels in hers.

Later in her car, as Stef drives home, the comfort of Lena Adams still lingers in her hand.

_**- Flashback ends -**_


	2. Through the Looking Glass

"And then you stalked me for weeks," Lena teases.

"What?" Stef says in disbelief. "I did not."

"Oh, yes you did," Lena confirms.

"No, I didn't," Stef blushes.

_**- Flashback - **_

Stef kisses Brandon "bye" as he enters his classroom. He shyly waves back to her, or is he waving her away, Stef thinks as she sees her boy huddle towards his friends. She smiles, comforted and knowing that it's just a part of his growing up. She remembers to get Brandon's teacher's attention to let her know that Brandon's dad is picking him up afterschool; an unavoidable communication for parents who are separated.

Going over her schedule for the day, Stef walks purposefully towards the main entrance thinking about the paperwork she needs to catch up on before any serious calls come into the precinct, the meeting she has with the chief later that afternoon, and the evidence inventory she needs to complete, then…she sees her.

Framed in the wide window of her classroom door, Lena listens attentively to a speaking student. She chalks some words on the blackboard and turns back to face her students with an encouraging smile. The gorgeous hair that Stef remembers from over a week ago is swept up atop Lena's head revealing the soft lines of her jaw and neckline, the smooth color of her skin, and the sweetest twinkle in her brown eyes. Stef watches Lena's lips mouth the words, "…and that was the same year the Constitution…" Then Lena is looking right at her.

Paralyzed with embarrassment, Stef doesn't realize that she has been staring at Lena for an endless moment. Stef loudly clears her throat, looks about her as if she's lost her bearings, and continues walking down the hall, quickly disappearing from Lena's view.

"Yes, Jason," Lena returns to addressing a student. "That's the right answer."

Lena smiles to herself.

_**- Flashback Ends- **_

"I wasn't stalking you," Stef laughs. "I was on my way out and I got…distracted."

"Then how about the other times?" Lena asks.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Stef says coyly.

_**- Flashback – **_

Catching a glimpse of Lena in her classroom door's window becomes a part of Stef's morning drop off routine. Over the last few weeks she has figured out Lena's morning schedule; Math or English on Mondays and Thursdays, Social Studies on Wednesday. On Tuesdays and Fridays, the room is either empty or she's alone correcting homework because her students are at phys. ed., art class or music.

Lena's fashionably understated clothes are always bright with intricate pattern. On cool days she wears a solid colored sweater, left opened or only buttoned in the middle. On some days the sunlight captures Lena's alluring qualities; her smile, caramel smooth skin, and her confidence. Her hair is always put up. On other days the toll of balancing a daily curriculum and shadowing the principal to learn about administrative policy and procedure shows in the dark circles under her eyes. Regardless, she remains poised and pretty.

The appearance of Lena framed by her classroom door's window looks different everyday. Sometimes she is at the blackboard with her back to the door guiding a student through a math problem. Sometimes her hand rests tenderly on a student's shoulder in an attempt to refocus a disruptive pupil while simultaneously maintaining her attention to teach the rest of the class. Sometimes she crouches at a desk with a student in need of a little extra help.

Stef walks by slowly enough to observe the new teacher but quickly enough not to be noticed by her. And on those rare occasions they do make eye contact, it is the only acknowledgement they share. No polite smiles, subtle nods, nor a tentative wave that reveals anything.

On this day, after she leaves Brandon with his friends and his teacher on their journey to learn, Stef is surprised to find Lena's classroom door wide opened. In nylon stockings, Lena makes successive trips up and down a ladder to select the top picture from a pile of fall-themed student artwork then staples them to the space above the blackboard. The repeated sound of paper crinkling in Lena's hands like dry Autumn leaves hypnotically draws Stef in.

"Can I help you with that? Stef asks. She's surprised to find herself across the threshold of the classroom doorway, past the pseudo-one-way glass that she is so used to seeing Lena through.

Standing midway up the ladder, Lena is taken aback by the unexpected visitor in full police uniform. "Is everything okay, officer?"

"I didn't mean to startle you," Stef says looking up at her; a perspective of Lena that Stef experiences for the first time. She likes it. "I just thought it would be more efficient if I handed them to you while you stay up on the ladder."

"That's a great idea. I could definitely use the help, thank you. I'm Lena Adams by the way, the fourth grade teacher," she says as she extends her hand down to shake Stef's. "Have we met before?"

"Stef Foster, I'm Brandon Foster's mom. He just started Kindergarten. You don't have him yet."

"Of course, at 'Meet the Teachers' night last month. Sorry I didn't recognize you right away. Your hair's pulled back and…it's the uniform," Lena says. "When you walked in, I thought something was wrong."

Stef chuckles nervously, "I forget how much of a reaction my uniform elicits in people who don't know me. May I?"

Now the artwork crinkles in Stef's hand as she gives it to Lena. Picture after picture is stapled to the wall. After every second one, Stef moves the ladder for Lena, over by about a foot ("Allow me," she says.) and they resume again. They accomplish the task mostly in silence, comfortable in a quiet that is only disturbed by the punch of the staple gun and the crunch of wrinkled paper. When they do talk, it's only about cliché subject matter such as how education has changed since they went to school, how children don't respect adults and authority like they used to "back in our day", how the neighborhood is improving by the noted rise in real estate prices and the drop in crime, and how the weather is much milder this time of year than expected.

After the last picture is stapled, Stef and Lena stand side-by-side to admire their collaborative effort. The distance of their own uneasiness separates them. An awkwardness seeps into the silence as they realize they've been staring up at the artwork much longer than twenty or so pictures could warrant anyone's attention. Neither of them wants the other to leave but neither knows what to say or to do to make the other stay.

Lena sighs. Stef clears her throat.

"Okay! Well, that's it," Lena suddenly says. "Job well done. I would never have finished this before the kids returned. Thank you."

"My pleasure," Stef says. "I should go. I need to document this in my community service log. I was one artwork hanging short of my monthly quota."

Lena laughs; she is caught off-guard by an unexpected blush that colors her cheeks.

"Ms. Adams!" a child blurts from behind Stef. "Did the fish arrive today?"

Stef steps out of the way as a bustling gaggle of fourth graders return to their homeroom. The call of, "Ms. Adams! Ms. Adams!" permeates the room and seems to crescendo around the two adults. Stef makes her exit as Lena tries to answer the barrage of questions and to address the abundance of needs that deluge her at once.

As Lena closes the door behind Stef, a child asks, "What did the police officer want?"

"Ms. Adams! Ms. Adams! Ms. Adams!" are the only words that Stef remembers as they float about her, carry her back to her cruiser, on to work, and through the rest of her day.

_**- Flashback Ends- **_


	3. Hot for Teacher

"That was helping, not stalking," Stef defends. As a civil servant, it's my responsibility to give back to the community. And it just so happens that education is important to me and that the educator who I was helping was super cute. And still is."

"Well I'm grateful that you relentlessly checked in on me. It was something I looked forward to everyday," Lena kisses Stef.

"It only took me forever to ask you to coffee," Stef says.

"Yes, it did…Wait." Lena says. "You asked me?"

"Yes," Stef says.

"That's not how it happened," Lena says. "I asked you to coffee."

"No, I clearly remember asking you," Stef says.

"Your selective memory is on overdrive tonight," Lena says.

"My memory isn't the only thing that's on overdrive," Stef says attempting to kiss Lena's neck again.

"Apparently," Lena says pushing Stef away. "You deny that you ever stalked me and now you believe you actually asked me out first."

"But I did," Stef defends.

"You didn't."

"Did to."

"Did not."

"Did –"

_**- Flashback – **_

Lena had offered to pick up the decoration pumpkins for Public School's annual Halloween party. Now, opening the trunk of her car, Lena is overwhelmed by the number of orange mounds – and pounds – of squash jammed in there. She calls facilities management for help to get then into the gymnasium. The line rings and rings. No answer. Looking about her, she scans the parking lot and the school yard for any sign of a co-worker who could offer the extra set of hands she needs. Nobody, not even a 5th or 6th grader, is in sight. She dials again with the same result; no answer. Exasperated, she mumbles, "How am I supposed to – "

"Looks like you could use some help," a friendly voice asks from behind her.

Lena wheels around and is perplexed by the sight of Stef standing there; her uniform more appealing than ever. Confused, yet delighted, Lena hangs up her phone and asks, "How is it that you always happen to be in just the right place at just the right time?"

Feigning bravado, Stef replies, "All in a day's work ma'am."

Lena rolls her eyes and smiles.

With great effort, a few grunts and one "hmph", Stef manages to hoist one of the larger pumpkins from the trunk.

"Are you sure?" Lena asks as she compares the size of the pumpkin she comfortably cradles in her arms with the enormity of Stef's selection.

"Absolutely," Stef says breathlessly, adjusting the weight of the squash from arm to arm.

"Okay. Don't hurt yourself," Lena warns as she leads the way into the school. Smiling to herself, Lena is covertly flattered by Stef's noble display.

When they finally put their pumpkins down in the gymnasium, Lena answers her ringing phone.

"I'm parked by the back door," Lena says to facilities management. "You're going to need a hand-truck and a couple of boxes. Yes, it's the red one, the trunk is wide open. You can't miss it. Thank you so much."

When Lena ends her call Stef says, "I never knew how much went into planning this party."

"The pumpkins are just the start," Lena explains. "Some parents volunteer their time to put up decorations, collect bags of candy and organize games. There's plenty to do."

"I'd like to do to that. Volunteer for the school. I've been going through a lot for the past year or two; couldn't focus on anything else," Stef explains. "But now seems right. This seems like the right time."

"Well you're in luck. I'm the Parent Coordinator for the PTA and it's my responsibility to recruit as many parents as possible to spearhead activities for our kids. So we should talk some more about what you could," Lena says.

Although Lena continues talking, Stef doesn't realize that she has stopped listening to her and is just looking at her. Not hearing a word that she says, but observing how her lips move, how her hands gesture, and how neatly her eyebrows are shaped. With a disruptive creak and bang, the gymnasium doors suddenly swing open and a band of maintenance men file in pushing hand trucks stacked with pumpkins.

"This clearly isn't the best time," Lena starts. "But maybe…"

"…we could go for coffee," they say at the same time and nervously smile.

"Then it's a d-," Stef fumbles. "I mean a plan. It's a plan, a good plan and uh, a good idea to talk about how we could get more involved, uh, I mean, how I could get more involved with the school and the teacher…and the teachers, all the teachers, the principal and administration and education for the good of all the children."

Stef gets progressively redder in the face.

"Where do you want these," a maintenance worker calls from across the room.

"Listen, let's touch base later in the week," Lena suggests. "Thanks again."

"Anytime," Stef says, mortified, yet trying to maintain her composure.

"They could go in the closet for now," Lena says to the maintenance team while watching Stef walk out through the gym doors. "We'll take them out later."

_**- Flashback Ends- **_


	4. Après-Hension

Moonlight streaks across their earnest faces in the darkened back seat as they laugh at the memory.

"That was embarrassing," Stef says.

"It was endearing."

"Did I give myself away?" Stef asked.

"I didn't have a clue," Lena lies.

"You still make me that nervous," Stef says brushing away a few stray curls off Lena's cheek. She kisses Lena on the corner of her mouth. Lena responds by searching for Stef's mouth and kissing her back, more passionately.

_**- Flashback - **_

The children frantically raise their hands in unison when Lena asks, "Who knows the answer?" Her student's waving hands and fluttering fingers reach higher and higher, giving the illusion of touching the wall clock on the back wall. The clock hands read, "8:46." Reflexively, Lena looks out the classroom door window. No one.

She picks a child to answer. In a fleeting moment, several eager students share their own perspectives, then the school bell rings. The children hustle noisily out of class to their next period through the door Lena holds open for them.

"I want you to think about this morning's lesson and – " Lena's sentence gets caught in her throat. Across the hall, standing near the lockers, Stef mouths the word, "Hi."

"…and come back with ideas about how you could make a difference," Lena continues saying to the children. To Stef she says, "Hi." A smile grows in Lena's eyes as Stef approaches her. Together they watch the last student skip down the hall.

"Is today good to meet for coffee?" Stef asks. "Brandon is in the after school music program. We could talk until I have to come back and pick him up."

"Perfect. I wrap up everything by 3:30 so I could meet you at 4."

"Okay, then 4 at the coffee shop on the corner of Main and Boulevard."

* * *

Walking across the parking lot to her car after school, Lena's stomach is jittery and she is short of breath. These unexplained feelings have been making a progressive crescendo over the course of the day. Now that it's 3:30, a kaleidoscope of butterflies has taken over her chest. Her steps are brisk and light, like they can't move fast enough. Her head feels like its floating or hovering above her neck.

She catches herself; not quite trusting whether her feelings are justified or if it's her own overactive wishes at play. Something in the pit of her stomach tells her that they are real. She, unfortunately, has had to resolve one too many misunderstandings to justifiably question – even doubt – whatever she senses between her and Officer Foster. Stef. _Her name must be Stephanie_, Lena thinks. Although it's a warm day, shivers descend her arms.

But then there's... She's still married to a man and she has a child with him. Lena berates herself for reading this all wrong; for putting herself in a position to get hurt. Is she creating something that's not there? Has it been so long since she's held someone or since she's intuitively sensed that a lover is thinking about her at a given moment? Yet, there's…just…something…

With her remote key, Lena bleep-blips her car door open. She is unexpectedly startled by the curt squawk of a loud siren blast nearby. A police cruiser slowly pulls up behind her; the window rolls down. Stef.

"Hop in, we could ride over together," Stef says.

Lena looks around self-consciously.

"What type of an example am I setting by being escorted off the school premises in a police car?" Lena says with a smile. "What would the kids think?"

"They'd think you were in good hands. C'mon."

_**- Flashback Ends-**_


	5. Coffee, Tea and OMG

"Regardless of who asked who first, that was definitely a memorable first date ever," Lena recalls.

"Was that a date?" Stef asks. "You consider that our first date?"

"Well? Yes," Lena says confidently. "I mean, it didn't seem that way at the time because it was just coffee. But…yes I do consider it our first… regardless of how it ended."

_**- Flashback - **_

Two white ceramic cups – one filled with tea, the other coffee – steam up their fragrant contents between the two talking women. Lena leans forward with her hands clasped together on the table. Stef sits back in her seat, hands on her lap, taking in the wide angle view of her company. Then she leans forward and clasps her hands on the table, then she puts them back on her lap again. Stef desperately tries to feel comfortable in Lena's presence. A subdue chatter of clicking laptop keys and occasional conversation hovers over the background jazz music sifting through the overhead sound system. As she speaks, Lena crosses her legs, then uncrosses them. Stef leans forward to hear Lena better. She suddenly feels too close – she can smell the sweet tea on Lena's breath – she sits back into the chair again and crosses her legs.

Lena eagerly speaks about the different PTA committees. Diagramming with her finger on the table – moving around random grains of spilled sugar – she explains each committee's functions, how they communicate with each other, and how they share information with both the administration and the parents.

"You should come to the next community engagement committee meeting," Lena suggests. "The parents have strong connections with local business, social service agencies, grassroots groups, and faith-based organizations in the area. I think public safety would be a welcome addition."

"I could get a couple of guys from the precinct to hold a 'Safety Day," Stef says. "And I have a contact at the fire house who could bring a truck over."

"The kids would love that," Lena says with a joy-filled smile.

"Teacher, parent coordinator, future principal, party planner," Stef looks at Lena admiringly. "What don't you do?"

"I don't fight crime and I don't sing…yet. I've always wanted to take lessons."

"I definitely appreciate music," Stef says. "But fighting crime is overrated."

They talk about how long Stef has been in law enforcement and why she chose the vocation. Lena is engrossed by Stef's motivation and how she handles fear and stress and what she does to decompress from a challenging assignment. They both learn that they like to read and happen to have read some of the same books. They talk about the neighborhoods they grew up in and about their parents and about the schools they went to. They talk about baseball and piano music, child psychology and government spending on education and community corrections. They laugh about embarrassing moments at year-end work holiday parties and agree about the importance of EQ in any relationship and they disagree about disposable paper plates versus dishwashing liquid.

"Look at the time," Stef says with a start, "I have to get Brandon."

"That was the fastest hour ever," Lena says.

"We should do this again," Stef suggests extending her hand across the table. Stef isn't wearing her wedding ring.

Lena tentatively slides her hand into Stef's and tightly squeezes it. Stef's eyes are so blue. A discrete smile crosses Lena lips.

"I'd like that," Lena says. She gives Stef's hand a firm and formal shake. "We could discuss more ways you could get more involved…with the school."

But Stef doesn't hear Lena. Stef's gaze has moved past Lena's enchanting eyes over to the coffee shop's entrance. The color in Stef's face disappears. Her eyes, which were so fervent a moment ago, stare blankly. She is transfixed; paralyzed in an eternal handshake with a stunning woman.

Lena turns around to see a police officer caught in the entryway, similarly stunned, unmoving. He's handsome, dark, and rugged. He has a presence about him, an air of both strength and brawn. But Lena sees something else; a fury in his eyes that only serves as a thin guise over a lot of pain and betrayal. His silver engraved name tag reads, "Foster".


	6. Untitled

"That was a pretty uncomfortable," Stef says, "for everyone."

"I'm glad it wasn't a sign of things to come," Lena reflects.

"That's if you don't count that committee meeting," Stef says.

"What committee…?," Lena ponders. "Oh, that one."

_**- Flashback - **_

Weeks have passed since Stef and Lena have been in the same room. Aside from a few one-way sightings of the other in the school halls or a cursory wave or head nod of acknowledgement, they have not spoken a word to each other.

Lena and Mike were never formally introduced on that unforgettable afternoon at the coffee shop, but Lena knew – from his and Stef's reactions – who they were to each other. The other Officer Foster – the one frozen in the coffee shop's doorway, not the one holding Lena's hand – left immediately, his demeanor resolute and his temper controlled. He did an about-face, slamming the door behind him. Lena distinctly remembers the sound of the glass plate rattling. Customers turned their heads to look. A grating screech of tires could be heard from the parking lot.

Stef apologized repeatedly and profusely for having to leave "like this" and for putting Lena in the "middle of this" and for how disconcerting "this all must be" and for Lena having to "see all of this". Lena kept telling Stef that it was "okay" and that "she understood" – even though Lena didn't understand exactly what was happening – and to hurry so Stef wouldn't be late picking up Brandon. As she watched Stef leave, Lena was sorry too but for her own careless decisions that lead to this moment.

For weeks since that encounter, Lena laments about how she may have crossed a professional boundary. She knows what she did. The fact that she spends any time at all thinking about a reasonable explanation to give Principal Chapman for meeting with a parent off school grounds and justifying the purpose and nature of their meeting, gives Lena agita. Lena always holds a high moral ground both in thought and by example, but indiscretions such as this leave her in turmoil, questioning her integrity.

When she decides to e-mail the PTA's Community Engagement Committee notification of their next meeting, Lena spends a moment staring at the computer screen adding and erasing Stef's e-mail address from the 'send-to' list. When she finally presses send, Lena knows that she's made the right, principled decision.

* * *

"Thank you all for being here this evening," Lena says addressing all the parents at the PTA's Community Engagement Committee meeting. "I'm looking forward to and I am so excited to work with you this year."

Over half of the committee members are seated around the cafeteria table; the committee chair at the head. They all introduce themselves as Lena stands at a flip chart hastily recording everyone's names, their community affiliations, and specialties. She listens carefully for their children's names in case she has to acknowledge the parents of children who are in her class.

Although its Lena's first meeting with this committee, her command of the group and her inherent leadership gives the impression that she has been facilitating this meeting for years. Some parents beam at Lena, drawn in by her confidence, enthusiasm, and energy. Some other parents are stoic, their arms crossed, their brows furrowed, evaluating and judging this new teacher at their school.

"Thank you all for your contributions over the years. This is a great," Lena says as she completes the last note on the flip chart. "This list really demonstrates how much effort you have all put into making partnerships between the community and Public School. I'm really impressed. I will definitely reach out to each of our community partners so we could bring them back this year to supplement our curriculum, to support our children's education, and also to get them involved in the Spring Fair."

Parents nod in agreement, including Stef. Attending her first PTA meeting ever, Stef observes Lena's every gesture with a quiet awe and discreet reverence. She was not expecting to receive Lena's meeting e-vite in her inbox a few weeks ago but, despite her doubts and hesitation, she pressed the "Will Attend" button anyway.

"When I interviewed for this position, and as I embark on the principalship track," Lena continues, "one of the areas that Principal Chapman admits Public School has been slow in addressing is bullying. Although bullying was just considered a right of passage when we were kids, it now has elicited a national movement toward remediation and healing rather than the belief of 'if you ignore it, it will go away'. We are now aware that the effects of bullying are detrimental to the normal development and mental health of our children and, in some cases, have lead to fatal outcomes."

Looks of grave concern are exchanged.

"Principal Chapman challenged me with the task of spearheading an initiative at Public School to recognize and address bullying both from the perspective of both the child who was bullied and the child who bullied. I'm sharing this task with all the PTA committees with the hope that each one will bring something to the table so that we could work collectively to make anti-bullying a seamless effort through all aspects of the school.

"Instead of just pitying the bullied, we should empower them with the courage to seek help. Instead of labeling the bully the 'bad seed', we should empower him or her also so that they could think about making a different choice. One of the approaches I'd like to take is to introduce the concept of diversity to the student body.

"In addition to all the businesses and organizations you already have contacts with, and have nurtured meaningful relationships with, I would also like for us to reach out to the African-American, Asian and Latina cultural centers in the community, to Jewish and Moslem leaders that promote co-existence, and finally to the LGBTQ center to round things out. I also believe there's a gender-equality grassroots group in the area. I'm looking forward to hearing your ideas – "

"You can't bring that stuff here," a father mumbles.

"Mark, do you have something to say?" Lena asks. "I believe we could speak openly here."

"You can't bring that stuff here. The racial stuff and educating the kids about Mexicans, I understand. That boys and girls are equal, sure. But you can't bring that other stuff here," Mark says more adamantly.

"What specific 'stuff' are you referring to?"

"That whole…..LGBT-LMNOP, stuff," Mark says; another parent chuckles.

Agitated, Stef shifts in her seat.

"I agree," Margaret, another parent, says. "It's just not information I'm ready to discuss with my 1st grader."

"In the past few months since I've been here," Lena says. "I have heard our children, in the school yard and in the halls, use the N-word, the other F-word and effortlessly interchange the word 'gay' with the word 'stupid'. I've heard some of them refer to boys who play with the girls or girl-themed games as 'sissies'."

"My child doesn't use that language," another parent calls out; another parent snickers.

"I find this far from funny," Lena says suppressing the urge to scold. "They already know what's out there. There's nothing more to teach them. By not introducing our children to the full gamut of what diversity is and how it should be valued and respected is doing them a great disservice. We're saying that it's okay to use the bad words – bad words that separate us from and alienate others – but it's not okay to learn the good things about our differences and about what we have in common."

"I don't have anything in common with no person who identifies themselves by the alphabet," Mark says.

"You're way out of line," Stef interjects.

Lena shoots Stef an astonished look.

"And by the way," another parent speaks up, "they are not 'our' children; they are not 'your' children. That is my 2nd and 3rd grader, and Margaret's 1st grader, and Mark's 4th grader that you're talking about. If you have a child that goes to this school, then you could share all the hippy-dippy crap that you want. But you don't. We should have a say in want our kids to learn and how we want to learn it."


	7. Challenging the System

"I was set up," Lena says. Visibly upset, Lena is in Principal Chapman's office pacing in front of his desk, not even hearing his offer for her to sit down.

"When you brought me on board," Lena continues, "I was very clear to you that I need to work in an environment that supports a policy of acceptance and tolerance. I was completely ambushed last night. It was a gang of them; they were insensitive and downright close-minded to seeing anything but their way."

"As an administration," Principal Chapman says, "we do support a policy of acceptance however, I have no control over the ideas and beliefs of every parent who sends their child here."

"They told me not to bring that 'stuff' here," Lena says directly at Principal Chapman. "Do they realize that that 'stuff' saves kids lives? It saved me as I mucked through adulthood trying to resolve and accept all of my differences because I didn't have those resources when I was in grammar school, middle school or high school. And it's not just about me; this approach has been proven to work."

"It's a public school, Lena, not RICH Academy in the next district," Principal Chapman says. "Families aren't hand-picked here nor do they pay thousands of dollars to be in a sheltered environment where the F-word is never uttered. We're not perfect; we do our best."

"And all I'm trying to do is make resources available – age-appropriate resources – to our children so that they'll think twice about being a bully and prevent other children from being bullied," Lena defends. "A little diversity training on all levels of our school would do us some good too. From parents and guardians to teachers and administration; from support and auxiliary staff to food services and facilities management, we all need to be together on this. There are 1,000 kids in the school so we need all the grown up eyes we have to keep them safe."

"Then continue doing your job," Principal Chapman says.

" What?"

"Please," Principal Chapman says and gestures to his guest chair. Lena tentatively settles into it.

"When I hired you, you came to me with your lofty ideas and visions about how to make Public School a better place, not just as a teacher but as a future administrator. Oh, and by the way," Principal Chapman says wagging a pencil at Lena, "no one said it was going to be easy. Maybe, you need to be more open."

" What?"

"In order for dialogue to happen and for ideas to be implemented, all sides need to be heard. Listen to them, understand where they come from, let them know that their views are just as important. You'll create a bridge much faster than trying to break down a dam. I believe in you. Now do your job."


	8. Nachtmusik

Stef slows down and backs up her car, trying to figure out where the music is coming from. It reminds her of Brandon, who she just dropped off at Mike's for the evening. Abiding by the terms of their separation agreement, she'll pick up Brandon on Saturday afternoon. She misses him already so when she hears a piano sonata playing in the distance, she is drawn to it, wanting to feel close to her little boy. She parks her car by a sprawling field of grass close to where she hears the tune.

As she follows the melody, the lawn becomes dotted, then increasingly crowded, with people sitting on picnic blankets. An aerial view of the park would look like a multicolored quilt with unique scenes of people on each quadrangle: a couple clinking wine glasses together; a family of four feeding two young children; a mother wrangling her toddler from crawling onto a neighbors colored square nearby; a woman gently swaying to the melody, the setting sun shimmering light in her dark, curly hair; a couple kissing, stretched out diagonally on their blanket; a group of friends talking as they reach for and dip into a smorgasbord of organic snacks and condiments; an athletic man sitting alone in lotus pose, reading.

The swaying woman…Stef walks back a few steps and looks again. For a fleeting moment, Stef sees herself charging across the blanket pastures and stepping indiscriminately on people's mini-territories; accidently stepping on fingers, knocking over wine glasses and containers of hummus. She instead takes a deep breath and searches for evidence of grass between the blanket patches. This is her path to…

"Lena?" Stef asks.

Lena turns with a blank look, not quite sure who would know her here. The blond that Lena turns toward is wearing jeans and a t-shirt, is no taller than she is and has shoulder length hair, an angular jaw line, fine features…and soft blue eyes. In that second of recognition, Lena's heart skips a beat; she smiles brightly and says, "Hi!"

And they just look at each other for a moment – which could have been 30 seconds or two minutes – genuinely happy to see each other and relieved by the absence of any unresolved tension. It's like they are starting anew. Stef's simple but direct statement at the committee meeting a few weeks ago lifted something between them; made it better again, reminded them both instinctively that regardless, they are on the same side.

"Sit down," Lena invites.

"I don't want to intrude…if you're with…," Stef stammers.

"I came alone," Lena confirms.

They gaze at each other a little longer until someone asks Stef to please sit down because she's blocking their view.

"What is this?" Stef asks as she settles onto Lena's blanket.

"It's the San Diego Symphony playing selections of classical music. They do it every Friday at dusk during the season."

"I think Brandon would like this," Stef says. "He's really good at playing the piano."

"You should bring him. We should..," Lena starts to say but her voice trails off into a mumble. She shakes her head.

"I just dropped him off at this father's," Stef says.

"Oh…"

"Ya…"

"Are things better since…?" Lena asks, referring to the coffee ship incident.

After a thoughtful pause Stef says, "No. I'm not sure if it will ever be. He's really angry with me. Hurt mostly. I'll give him that. He needs the time. I have my own challenging issues with Brandon's father but I'm willing to work with him if he gets the help he needs. Other than that we do our best to make sure Brandon knows that we love him."

The tenderness in Lena's eyes touches Stef at her core; it tempts Stef into a trance of unabashed truth-telling. She feels like telling Lena everything about everything. She wants to tell Lena about why she and Mike are separated and why Mike can only spend 18 hours with Brandon. And she wants to tell Lena how comfortable she feels with her and how familiar Lena feels to her and how easy Lena is to talk to and how much she missed not talking to Lena for the past few weeks and how much she …

Stef hesitantly parts her lips, they quiver and she says, "You know, this is exactly what I need: a warm evening, the sun setting, relaxing music and good company."

Lena smiles. They watch and listen – listen mostly – in silence, letting the next hour of meditative music transport them far away from their worries and rules and limitations. Though their focus is trained towards the bandstand, they are very aware of the dynamic energy at play between them.

When the conductor takes his final bow and the applause subsides to a hush, audience members fold their blankets, collect their litter, fasten sleeping toddlers into strollers, and gradually leave the park. Lena and Stef, instead, remain seated and talk about the music genres they like and discover that they have a few in common including some of the same songs on their playlists. Stef gushes about Brandon describing the moment she realized he had a natural talent. At 3, he had climbed onto a piano bench and meticulously plucked out the tune, "Twinkle, Twinkle". Now he makes up his own songs. They talk about the musical artists they admire, then about the lyrics of songs that move them.

Lena stretches out on the blanket oblivious to the absence of the other people who used to be around them. All the inhabitants of the blanket states have long gone, left and returned home. The clink and whine of instruments being packed away is no longer in the background. The stage is black and deserted. Stef lies back on the blanket too. A spray of stars hover in the pitch blue sky above them.

"This is perfect," Stef says to herself.

"What?" Lena asks because she doesn't hear Stef.

"This moment is perfect," Stef says louder. "I have everything I need."

"Me too," Lena says closing her eyes.

Leaves rustle in the trees; insects begin their own night symphony of cricks and buzzes; and the traffic of a distance highway hums in the background. Stef sinks into the blackness underneath her heavy eyelids and floats there waiting for sleep, like a sinker, to take her under.

* * *

"Excuse me, ladies," a passing parks employee says.

Lena and Stef open their eyes with a start. Stef sits right up, instinctively grabbing for where her holster would be if she was in uniform.

"Ladies," Parks Guy says, "the park's closing. The show's been over for hours."

In a sleepy fog, Stef mouths the word, "Hours?" as she looks at the time on her phone. It reads, "11:43 PM"

"It's almost midnight," Stef says.

"Midnight?" Lena responds groggily. She is also in the midst of waking up.

"I could save you this spot for the next show," Parks Guy says, "but you gotta leave now."

Stef retrieves her police badge and holds it up to Parks Guy, "You could go about your duties. We'll find our way out."

"Of course, Officer," Parks Guy says and hastily walks away.

"That came in handy," Lena says, impressed.

"Works every time," Stef says rising to her feet. "Here"

Stef holds her hand out to help Lena up; Lena accepts the gesture. What Lena doesn't expect is how strong Stef is and how Stef's upward hoist brings them unsettlingly close to one other. Each feels the other's breath on her face. The rise and fall of their chests is hypnotic, even though they don't touch. Their joined palms – one is hot, the other clammy – noticeably pulsate. Any movement closer threatens them from ever separating. They search each other's eyes seeking an answer, guidance about what to do next; yearning for relief from this unbearable, building tension. Their breaths become shallower, come faster.

The roar of a low flying plane jars Lena back to the park and back to being a teacher at this parent's school. Like touching fire, she jerks her hand out of Stef's.

"I gotta go. I gotta home," Lena says nervously as she scrambles to collect her blanket; Stef unsteadily steps off the fabric as Lena yanks it out from under her.

"Don't go," Stef pleads. "We should talk."

"I can't," Lena says looking around to make sure she doesn't forget anything. "I can't do this."

"Don't just leave," Stef says taking a firm hold of Lena's arm. It is a touch so assertive that Lena almost submits to its yearning. "Something's happening…Lena, I really…We should really talk –"

Lena twists her arm out of Stef's grip and says, "Don't you understand, I don't want to talk now!" Stef is taken aback by Lena's agitation; it's a side of her Stef has never seen before. Stef steps back.

Lena takes a deep breath and looks deep into Stef's eyes. Calm befalls Lena; compassion, with a hint of regret, envelopes her voice.

"Talking is not what I want to do right now," Lena says. With a trembling hand, Lena softly caresses Stef's face. Stef closes her eyes. "I don't want to talk. I want to…I'm sorry, this is all too complicated. I have to go."

Stef stands alone in the park; this time very alone as she watches her new friend walk hastily away. All that remains are random scraps of left over litter that languidly moves with the gentle night breeze.

"I didn't want to talk, either," Stef says aloud to herself as she touches the warmth on her cheek that Lena left behind.


	9. Admit Everything, Deny Nothing-Part 1

When she loads the last bag of groceries into her car trunk and closes it, Lena is relieved to have completed that task for the weekend. Across the mall's parking lot, she notices a police cruiser pulling in. She recognizes the car's number. Weeks have past since Lena left Stef standing in the park in the middle of the night alone. She knows she could have handled it better. Lena needs to make it right, she needs to fix it.

Driving her car over, Lena honks at Stef, who is just getting out of the cruiser. Lena calls out from her window, "I want to take you up on your offer to talk."

"Okay," Stef says, caught of guard by Lena's unexpected appearance and request on this weekend afternoon.

"I'm thinking of a coffee shop," Lena suggests, "but somewhere out of this county."

Stef laughs, but she responds, "No."

Lena's startled expression is exactly what Stef is hoping for. Stef walks over to Lena's car and rests her arms on the open window; she looks intently at Lena from the top of her head, down to the gentle curve of her chin. Lena bites her bottom lip and moves a random, loose curl behind her ear.

"Can I… Will you…," Stef starts; she takes a deep breath building up the nerve to continue. "Will you have dinner with me? And please don't tell me you 'gotta go' and step on the gas. You'll run over my feet."

This time Lena laughs.

"Sorry about last Friday," Lena says. "It's just that…I'm really confused. Stef, you're marri – "

Lena looks at Stef's hand; there's no wedding ring.

"I took it off months ago when Brandon's father and I agreed to the separation," Stef says, worry fills her words. "If you accept my invitation, I'll explain everything."

All Lena sees is the sincerity in Stef's eyes and hears the apprehension in her voice. Stef looks both scared and tearful. It's the look of someone about to jump off a cliff. Lena decides to jump with her.

Lena takes a deep breath and says, "Yes, I'll have dinner with you."

* * *

They agree to meet at La Boheme, a French restaurant. They had both heard wonderful reviews about the food so they agreed it would be a perfect place to go especially since it was located in the heart of San Diego, a good distance from Public School and the neighborhood that it served.

Stef arrives early, fifteen minutes before the time she told Lena. She planned it that way. She hands her keys to the valet, verifies her reservation "for two" with the maitre d', and asks him to direct her to the ladies room.

In the bright white bathroom light, Stef scrutinizes herself from head to toe in the sprawling vanity mirror that covers three walls. Hair - fortunate to have gotten an appointment with a stylist that afternoon. Make up – not much, just mascara and lip gloss, the one with the light purple hue. Clothes – it's the third outfit she tried on that evening, but the final one out of ten that she finally decided to wear; a slim pair of black dress slacks and a lilac colored silk blouse. Jewelry – a chain with a single pearl which a friend had given her a long time ago. Stef runs her fingers through her hair, inhales deeply, exhales loudly and returns to the maitre d' to show her to her table.

Seated, Stef looks at her watch, "5:58 PM". And in the moment she raises her eyes to look about the room for her guest, what she sees takes her breath away.

The restaurant is lit by candlelight and lit by the magnified reflection of candlelight on the crystal chandeliers and glass decorative fixtures that adorn the surroundings. Glints of light appear to sparkle everywhere. A large mid-wall to ceiling mirror gives the illusion of there being another extension to the restaurant. Candles, light, and patrons reflect from the mirror also. A pianist plays a mellow, syrupy tune as the backdrop to intimate conversation, clinking wine glasses, and entrees being served. And like a newly lit candle which first blinks then flares into existence, Lena walks into the room.

Oblivious of the maitre d' leading Lena, Stef only sees an angelic being in a cream colored dress made of the lightest, most airy fabric Stef has ever seen and patterned with the multi-colors of autumn foliage. Lena's hair is swept up the way Stef likes it, the style that shows off Lena's best features. She could have been a graceful fawn that one would unexpectedly come upon on a walk through a forest at dusk. She is the epitome of elegance.

Stef is suddenly nervous; her breaths come faster, on the verge of hyperventilating. She shifts uneasily in her chair. In mere seconds, her face expression shifts from awe, to worry, to fear and back again. _What am I doing?_ Stef thinks. _She's way out of my league._ She takes a sip of wine before she stands to greet Lena.

They touch hands, not a formal shake, but an acknowledgement of their excitement to finally be there together. Neither of them knows what all this means, but it feels right, like it should be. _Without a doubt, like it should be_, Stefanie comforts herself.

They sit and Lena orders wine. "Whatever she's having," she says to the waiter all the while maintaining her eye contact with Stef.

When the waiter leaves, Lena leans forward and says to Stef, "You look amazing."

Stef blushes unable to bear the compliment coming from the perfect lips of this beautiful woman across from her.

"I'm so happy you're here," Stef manages to say.

"Me too," Lena responds. Now it's Lena's turn to blush. "The kids asked me an interesting question today. You'll like this. They asked why the police officer always comes by our classroom."

"Should I be less obvious?" Stef asks.

Lena laughs and says, "Nothing gets past them."

"The other day, Brandon saw a pregnant woman and asked me why her belly was so big," Stef says. "I told him because there was a baby inside. He thought about it for a minute then asked, 'Why did she eat her baby?'"

Lena laughs and asks, "Did you give him the 'birds-and-bees' talk?"

"Are you kidding? I wasn't ready for that. I told him that babies start growing from inside a mom's belly; they're not eaten," Stef answers. "I'll save 'the talk' for another year or two from now. So how did you answer their question about 'the police officer visits'?"

"By redirecting it," Lena answers. "That's how I was trained to answer all personal questions children ask me. 'Why do you think the police officer visits?' I asked them. They came up with the most creative answers like, 'to change the light bulb' or 'to make sure everyone's safe'. Then before you know it they're so involved with their own discussion, they forget why they asked in the first place."

"I like that. I should use that technique at work."

"With suspects?" Lena asks.

"No, with the guys in my precinct," Stef answers, "I need to get them off my back sometimes. Our unit is a little too close knit."

"I fortunately don't have to deal with that…yet," Lena says, reaching for the bottle of sparkling water on their table. "Being new, everyone at the school is still pretty polite to me and respectfully keeps their distance. I'm only privy to –"

Stef reaches for the bottle of water at the same time; their fingers touch and remain still. With an almost imperceptible movement, they instinctively shift their fingers so that they now intertwine around the bottle. The bottle's cool condensation tempers the intensity of their contact.

"I don't know wh - ," Stef says with urgency.

"Are you ready to order, Mesdames?" a waiter asks, appearing from no where.


	10. Admit Everything, Deny Nothing-Part 2

Startled, they release the bottle and putter through their menus. They discuss the entrees, nervously laugh at mispronouncing the dishes, and agree on some appetizers to share. The waiter takes their orders and then they are left alone again save the feelings that brew between them.

"I don't know where to begin," Stef continues, her voice weighted with all the anticipation of this moment.

"I already know," Lena answers.

"So now what?"

"You tell me," Lena says. She slides her finger – one finger – across the table cloth and pushes hard against Stef's ring finger. "Is it really over for you?"

It's a question that Stef has never had to answer aloud; a question that she has not even answered herself, in her heart.

"All I know is – " Stef says.

"Wine, Mesdames?" the waiter interrupts, holding a bottle wrapped in a cloth napkin. He replenishes their glasses and stays a moment longer – too long –to suggest another wine selection to have with their entrees. Stef is on verge of relinquishing the words that she is about to speak. They both nod a 'thank you' smile to the waiter before he leaves.

With a sip of liquid courage, Stef starts again, "All I know is, this is the most right I have ever felt in my life. I told Mike I met someone."

Suddenly, neither of them have an appetite for what they just ordered. Stef's throat is filled to the brim with words she dares say. Lena's heart is wrenched open for this woman across the table yet it is also guarded by her mind's logic – past experiences and past hurts – which protects her.

Lena sips her wine, actually two consecutive sips, then a gulp.

"What did he do?" Lena asks.

"He didn't take it well. He thought he and I had a chance; that we could start again and have a future together, but then…"

Lena's eyes widen with anticipation.

"Then, when he saw us at the coffee shop," Stef says, "he saw us holding hands – it put him completely over the edge. I had told him about a week earlier."

Lena's heart jumps in her chest, she asks, "But how could you have been…How could you be so sure?"

It occurs to Lena that Stef knows nothing about her. Stef doesn't know how she feels, what she's thinking, how this is affecting her or whether her feelings are mutual. Yet, she's being implicated as the wedge in Stef and Mike's failing marriage.

"If you only knew how long it took me to tell him. I lost so much sleep. But every time I saw you or talked to you, I just knew that I could never love him again or be with him again the way he deserves. Lena, there's a part of me that …" Stef stammers, her voice catches.

"Your appetizers, Mesdames," the waiter interrupts. He places steaming dishes - small edible art installations in the middle of small white plates - in front of them. The women barely remember what they ordered.

Stef composes herself before she continues, "A long time ago, I felt something right here" – Stef places the palm of her hand on her belly – "and I knew that it was the truth. It was louder and stronger than anything I had ever felt before.

"I was fifteen and I had this friend. I'll never forget her; she was so different from anyone I knew. She wasn't like me nor did she feel the same way as I did. She just stood out and did what she wanted to do without worrying about what anyone said or thought."

"She was dangerous, she took risks" Stef says, her face glowing with the memory, "she challenged her parents in a way I could never imagine doing to mine. We did everything together. She took me on her sprees, to her parties, on her ride to experience living, really living. I was totally on board until everything changed."

Lena leans forward, concern spreads over her face.

"One evening, Stef continues, "we were home alone watching a horror movie. Scared to death, we're huddled under a blanket preparing to cover our eyes waiting for the next thing to happen. My dad comes in – he must have just gotten home –he suddenly turns on the lights and we scream our heads off, holding on to each other for dear life. We didn't know what was happening. Then he shuts off the TV and tells my friend – her name was Tess – to go home. We were in our night clothes, tanks and shorts; she was supposed to sleep over. I got into a really bad argument with my dad that night after Tess's dad picked her up. I didn't speak to my dad for days. Then a week later, out of no where, he's driving me to our church to speak with Father McMillan."

"Oh," Lena responds with both a surprised and pained expression.

Stef continues, "…and the priest's talking to me about sex and boys and girls and sin and all this stuff that just confused me...and I can barely remember what he said. It was horrible. It made me, everything about me, feel so wrong."

Stef wipes a tear from her cheek; she doesn't realize that she's crying.

"Anyway, when I met you," Stef says. "When I saw you, when we shook hands, all those feelings came flooding back; adventure, lightness, excitement, risk, fire…it felt different, I felt different and I was okay with it. I felt free and most of all I felt my truth again."

Stef takes a sip of wine, two sips, and says, "Lena, I'm…I'm…this life I've had…Mike and I…it's not me….who I am….I'm…"

Reaching across the table, Lena lays her hand atop Stef's and says, "Its okay."

"It's okay?" Stef says with the countenance of an earnest child.

Lena nods and says, "Try again."

Stef grips Lena's hand like she's about to descend into an abyss. She inhales deeply and exhales the words, "Lena, I'm gay." Then Stef says to herself, "I'm gay."

The candles could have blown out and the restaurant patrons could have disappeared, the table between Stef and Lena could have fallen away, the background noise could have crescendoed, and they would never have noticed. It was just the two of them at that moment and Stef laying bare, surrendering to the channel that she just opened.

"Stef," Lena responds, "so am I."

"Really?" Stef says asks with disbelief, squinting at Lena.

"Yes, really," Lena says laughing at the expression of curiosity and uncertainty in Stef's face. "Really, really."

Stef laughs too, hesitantly, but laughs just the same. They join hands on either side of the table.

"And I really like you, Stef," Lena says. "I really like you and I'm falling for you and it scares me to death because you're so…you're so new and you have so much to end and so much to begin at the same time."

"You like me?" Stef asks.

Lena nods and says, "More than I can bear."


	11. Telling Mike

After staring at her Smartphone on and off for the past hour, tapping on Mike's name, then pressing cancel, swiping through the app pages - back and forward, then forward and back – and putting it back down…

"Hey," Stef finally says into the phone to Mike.

"Hey," Mike answers back. Their staccato greeting is awkward and uncomfortable, laden with tension and unspoken feelings – defensiveness, distance – yet they need so much to be gracious to one another.

"Did I wake you up?" Stef asks. Mike sounds…_No, he's not sleepy_, Stef thinks. She knows that drawl in his voice. It's not because of an extra long shift.

"No, um, just relaxin'," Mike says. Stef could hear the couch squish and creak through the phone as Mike rights himself from a lying to a seated position.

"Do you have time to meet on Friday after you close out?" Stef asks. "My mom's going to take Brandon for the weekend."

"Oh," Mike says, sounding more alert. "I had, I had plans. I wanna take him to a baseball game on Friday night. I bought tickets."

"Could you do it another time? We need to talk."

"Okay, that won't be a problem. I'll give 'em to Brad's kid. He could use 'em. Get Brad outta the house. He's goin' through somethin' with his wife, Sue. 'Member Sue? We had dinner with them-"

"Mike," Stef interrupts, "I want to meet about…I want a divorce."

During the silence on the other end of the line, all Stef hears is the pounding of her own pulse in her ears; it's deafening. The pregnant pause of nothingness is broken by a sound she's never heard before. It's the mangled roar of a wounded animal, the guttural bark of a being that's no longer human. Stef is not even sure the sound is coming from the other end of the line. She pulls the phone away from her ear and looks around her.

"Aaaaaarrrrrrrgh!" Interspersed with a series of pounding – first against wood, then against plaster – Stef hears brown glass bottles thunk! haphazardly to the floor; some spray shattered glass.

"Mike!" Stef yells into the phone. "Mike!"

"Aaaaaarrrrrrrgh," is the only response that Stef gets.

"You're leaving me for her?" Mike asks, his diction sharp and clear. "You're leaving me for that bitch!"

"You better watch how you talk about her," Stef says in her most authoritative police officer tone.

"That, that, fucking b-aaaarrrrrh!" Mike growls through clenched teeth. That fucking dy -aaaaarrrrrh. That woman's got you all screwed up. You're just lost and confused. Lost!"

"And she found me," Stef retorts.

"I didn't lose you. I never let you go," Mike says remorsefully. "You left me."

"I didn't leave you, Mike," Stef reassures him. "I didn't leave the Mike that I could always talk to, who always looked out for me on duty, who I made a beautiful son with. Mike, I left your drinking. I left your being out of control. I left because you checked out from Friday to Sunday with a bottle – "

"What we do is stressful," Mike interrupts. "You know that."

"I left you," Stef continues, "because you won't get help."

"Help?" Mike snickers. "You're the lesbian. I'm not the one with the problem. I don't need help. I don't have a problem."

"That's your problem," Stef snaps back. "That's why I left."

"You didn't care so much about our drinking when we were cadets," Mike says tauntingly. "But oh, once you sobered up, you got all high and mighty and now I'm not good enough for you. Then you go and meet some fucking wh—aaaaaaarrrgh and now all you have a taste for is pu-aaaaarrrrrgh."

"You're .Drunk. Mike," Stef says, disappointment weighing her every word. "Call me tomorrow."

"No, no, don't go. I'm sorry, don't go," Mike pleads. His voice softens, becomes almost tender. "It's just…so…hard. This is so hard for me. Everything. Is. So…A divorce, Stef? Divorce? Does your father know? Did you tell your father?"

The sound of the word "father" curdles Stef's stomach. A sour taste fills her mouth like morning breath after a night of vomiting.

"You still there?" Mike asks.

Stef cannot answer; her tongue feels glued to its root, hardened into concrete in her mouth. A sickening image of her father's face expression and reaction to news about the divorce materializes in her mind. The thought of telling him she's in love with a women sears through her bowels. Her knees buckle and her head suddenly feels like a sloshing fish bowl; she swallows past a bulging lump in her throat.

"I have to go," Stef says. "Sleep it off and call me…I'll call you." She disconnects the call without waiting for Mike to say, "bye". 


End file.
